The Birth of Death
by DarkMuse112
Summary: One-shot exploration of how Grell might possibly have been created.


Kuroshitsuji and Grell Sutcliff ©Yana Toboso and SquareEnix

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><p><em>Grell Sutcliff<em>

It was the first thing that it was aware of thinking.

_Thinking. Aware._

What did these words mean? It was all nonsense. These thinkings and awarenesses… no, there were different words for what it wanted.

_Thoughts and feelings. That's it._

These thoughts and feelings, ideas, floated through a void. In less than ten seconds it understood all of these concepts and then some. It understood what these words meant.

_I am Grell Sutcliff. But what is a Grell Sutcliff exactly?_

In the flash of an instant, it felt itself change drastically. It was hard to describe that its limits both expanded and condensed at the same time. Bones. Muscles. Skin. Blood. Heart. Lungs. Eyes. Brain.

Though it had gained all of these things, though by what manner it had gained them was mysterious, the skin covered the muscles, but the muscles did not move the bones. The blood swelled within the heart that did not pump, the lungs unable to supply the oxygen needed to make the blood healthy. The eyes did not see. And all the thoughts and feelings that had come so freely and been given such easy cognition were now boxed into one little area, which relied on synapses to make sense of them all.

Visions suddenly bombarded the eyes, and the brain took these images and made sense of their meanings. Water. Lakes. Dirt. Ground. Mountains. Earth. Animals. Humans. Clouds. Planets. Galaxies. These were all physical things, which were easy for the brain to recognize.

The difficulty came when the visions became less tangible, more ideas than actual objects. God. Life. Beauty. Love. Compassion. Hatred. Power. Taxes. Death.

For some reason, that last idea seemed to hold more weight than than the others. Though he couldn't quite rationalize why that might be.

_Wait. I am a he? I am male? I'm being assigned a gender role already? How presumptuous of you._

Males were meant to mate with females and produce the offspring. That was the whole point wasn't it? They had different body parts and they were built different. They were a different shape. Males were bigger, louder, stronger and more crass. But they could be quiet too. They could be kind, gentle, and sweet. They could love a woman deeply, and even be her best friend. They could be protective and loyal among many other things. His brain told him all these things.

_I don't want to be male. I want to have babies. I want to be beautiful. I want to be made to feel beautiful by a kind man. I don't want to be some big, hairy, smelly brute._

_**You cannot have babies whether male or female. You are not human. It is not your place to decide these things.**_

It was not a voice that spoke to him per se, but a recognition of realities. Instead of images now, his brain was creating words and putting them together in a logical manner so that he could understand them. Language.

_Then what am I?_

The question went unanswered. But he wanted to know so many things. His brain was overloading with information and it felt like his head might explode.

_All right. I want answers right now, God dammit. What the hell is going on?_

**Okay mister, if you're going to use that kind of tone with me, I **_**will**_** damn you to Hell.**

This was a voice. It used the language his brain had devised so that he understood perfectly what the voice had said and what it meant. It meant that he had better stop thinking such thoughts or he would be in trouble.

**You're just lucky I'm forgiving.**

_I'm sorry._

**I already told you, you've been forgiven. Though that kind of reward system is only meant for the humans.**

_Can you do me a favor?_

**That depends. What is your request?**

_Please take this dangly thing back. I don't want it._

**No.**

_Why not?_

**Because you don't get to make that kind of request.**

_You're cruel and unfair._

**So I've heard.**

Nothing made sense for a long time. It was probably only seconds, but it felt like millennia had passed before anything else happened. He was not sure what was happening, but his brain was still showing him things, and he felt like he was just hanging, or possibly even floating in a space that was void of any and all things.

**There. All done. Tell me what you think?**

This was his body. He wasn't sure how he was seeing it, as he existed inside of it, but there it was, tall, lean, and pale before him. Long red hair flowed down to his calves. His eyes were a bright, acid green.

**Don't be afraid to test the merchandise. **

Something in his brain snapped, and a portion of the nerves that had been assisting in the immense download of knowledge switched over to manual control. This download slowed slightly, but he could now move his muscles at his own will. He still felt uncomfortable though. His organs had yet been given to function.

He used his left hand to reach up to his face. He ran the icy cold fingers over his eyelids, feeling the soft hairs that grew there. He utilized his other hand, and ran both through his hair, which felt soft and luxurious. He felt proud of it. No, this was not something he had done himself. This had been given to him by that voice that liked to patronize him so much. Proud was not the word. Grateful. Yes, that was it. He was grateful that he had been given such gorgeous hair.

He used the muscles in his face to part his lips, revealing pearly, white teeth. They were perfectly straight and made him look strikingly dignified. He liked them, but he was unconvinced.

**What? You don't like them?**

_No, I like them. But artistically, it's not very original. I would have done something a little more drastic._

**Fine then, Mr. art critic, what do you propose? Because you've been around since the dawn of time like me, which clearly qualifies you to critique my creation.**

_Don't take it as a critique, my dear, but a mere suggestion. Perhaps it would sound less ungrateful if I phrased it in the form of a personal request?_

**How would you like your teeth to look then? I haven't got all day.**

_I'd like sharp pointy teeth. Like a shark._

**. . . .**

_Please? I won't fuss so much about the penis if you grant me this one, simple consideration._

**All right, all right. But you have to live with it for eternity.**

_I promise I won't complain._

**Fine. Kids these days... next he'll be wanting a tattoo.**

_Can you do that?_

**I can give you a body covered in freckles. Or nasty boils if you prefer.**

_Um, no thank you._

**That's what I thought.**

And just like that, his request was granted.

He felt absolutely perfect. He no longer felt that sense of incompleteness that accompanied not having a personal space but existing everywhere at once. Everything he was, everything he felt, every thought that ran through him was now contained in this one little space.

He was Grell Sutcliff. He was tall, lanky and pale with long red hair, green eyes, and a shark-like grin. Now that he knew who he was and what he looked like, that still left the question of what he was. He had been told he was not human. But he looked human. If he wasn't human, but looked human, what did that make him?

**A pain in the rear end.**

_That's not true and you know it._

**No, it's true. You may not literally be a pain in the rear end, as that is something sensory that only the brain can process as discomfort on, say, the left buttock, but you **_**are**_** really annoying. I would know. I made you that way.**

_I understand sarcasm when I hear it. "You should know."_

**Don't mock me.**

_Sorry._

**You're forgiven. Again. Holy Cow, I haven't had to do this much forgiving since, well, forever. And like I said before, I don't even reserve that privilege to the likes of your kind.**

_What is my "kind?"_

**You'll find out when you're born.**

_Born? But I exist. I am aware of things. How have I not yet been born?_

**Do you feel blood coursing through your body? Do you feel air in your lungs? You have yet to use your voice for speech, so you are not alive yet. This is my creation. I have not given you your abilities. Right now, you are no more useful than a slug.**

_So I'm being made to be useful to someone else? I don't think so, darling. I'm not some puppet you can make to dance around on stage. I'm an actress. I control my own actions._

**Actresses still have to follow scripts, so even then, you have to abide by someone else's rules. By the way, the term you want is "actor." Actress would imply you are female, which you are not.**

_I can pretend though, can't I?_

**I suppose, if that's what tickles your fancy. It wouldn't hurt anyone, though it might creep people out just a bit.**

_All the more reason, love._

**Jesus, I must have had a screw loose when I came up with your blue prints. You're a special one, you are.**

_I'll take that as a compliment, I suppose._

_**Not my greatest creation, but I do say the design flatters you.**_

_Thank you for that. Hey, how much longer is this going to take?_

**Just be patient, dear.**

Grell smiled, and blinked a few times. He knew it was the year 1789, that England had just gone through a war with its American colonies overseas a little more than ten years ago, that he was immortal, and that his purpose for existing was to reap the souls of the living humans in the physical realm so that they could be judged at the time of the apocalypse. He had no idea how to go about these duties yet, but that's why he was going to the Reaper Academy. Today was his first day.

The notion that he had just been created was completely lost on him. He'd forgotten the entire experience as soon as he'd woken for breakfast that morning. He did not question the fact that his existence had only just begun that morning. Everything felt natural. He had the life experience of the average twenty-three-year-old but it was more of an ingrained nature. It did not occur to him that he'd never had a childhood. It was just not something any reaper ever thought about. A reaper was a reaper, and their origins were unknown. Not even the reapers themselves questioned where they came from. This one, most obvious thought literally did not exist in the encyclopedia of all reapers' deepest thoughts.

When Grell reached the Academy, there was no one else around but a man about his age with scruffy, mussed-up hair sitting on a wall outside the building, looking up at the clouds.

"Well, hello there darling! And who might you be?"

The boy turned his eyes to Grell, cocking his head to the side, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"This your first day too? I'm Grell Sutcliff." Grell offered the man a hand.

The man took it hesitantly and Grell nearly shook his arm off.

"William T. Spears. Nice to meet you Mr. Sutcliff."

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><p><em>I was writing this as if "God" were one entity that belonged to all religions. Most religions, even polytheistic religions seem to believe that there is one divine being that rules over the other gods. I'm thinking Hinduism when I say that though. (Hence the "Holy Cow" with cow being capitalized) I'm Catholic, but I keep my religion off the internet. So I tried to write this from the point of view taking into account ALL religions and what I know about their beliefs. Which in some cases, isn't much. lol (I'll probably get flamed for the cow comment in this AN alone.)_

_I was going to submit this to a group on DA for a one-shot fan fiction contest, but I think I'll think about it more before I turn one in. I have time. I want to keep the topic about how a reaper is created, but I might try a different concept. I thought of many things. I want to try a few before I set my heart on one._

_I still prefer the idea that the reapers came from humans, but this is my attempt at exploring different ideas. :3_


End file.
